


Troublemakers

by Osculum_obscenum



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood Memories, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Constipation, M/M, No Beta, Requited Love, Tough Childhood, We Die Like Women, a bit angsty, i dont know what im doing, some made up characters - Freeform, the tags will change with new chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osculum_obscenum/pseuds/Osculum_obscenum
Summary: Jaskier reminiscents vaguely about his past, Geralt is sensing something but he is Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 21





	1. Troublemakers

**Author's Note:**

> Well... Hi!  
> This is my first posted work and first work at all in a few years aaaand English is not my first language, so please be kind and don't eat me :). Also, I'm not profound in the witcher's topic as I haven't read the books (yet) and only began playing the game, so you can expect I will make some things up and bullshit my way through.  
> Soooo... say hi in the comments or leave some kudos or just try to read through this and don't die from the cringe. Enjoy!  
> P.S. I plan to make it into a chaptered work but I can't promise anything

The mopey ten-year-old emerged from his comfy bedroom and sat in a chair. Clementine already understood something must be wrong. To be fair something was constantly wrong for the past couple of years and not only with her dishevelled, brown-haired, precious boy but with... them all. Ever since Locke left it seemed that her little life was crumbling by her feet. 

  
" Sunshine, how are you feeling?"

  
" I'm fine..." 

  
Clementine sighed with exasperation.

  
However, this tiny gentleman beamed, with the best of his smiles, as soon as he saw the menace, rightfully named- Magnolia. And Clementine relaxed, knowing it wasn't that bad as it could be.

  
***

  
"Okay, so now it's my turn... what is your biggest dream?" she asked, idyllically plucking flowers at her feet.

  
The sun was blinding him as they sat in the middle of their make-believe garden but with stubbornness, matching his thirteen-year-old mind, his face met the burning star with pleasure. 

  
" To fantastically get far, far away and be the best artist the world has leid her eyes upon! " he added grinning. 

  
But Maggie's eyes went a bit foggy which has always disturbed him more than anything. The very thought of any hurt happening to his favourite flower was like a punch to his gut. 

  
"Hey, hey, Maggie. What's wrong? " the big brother asked cradling the girl in his arms. " It's not like it's your fault, I want the best for you and momma, but I won't be able to do it here." his fingers ran through her brown locks.

  
" I know but... will you promise me about the thing?" Maggie sniffled wiping her nose with the back of a hand.

  
" About what thing, my dear troublemaker?" he teased.

  
" Oh, stop pretending, you big buffon!" she slapped him lightly in the head. " You can't be the only non-plant-named boy in the gang."

  
" I'M the only boy in the gang! " he laughed loudly and jumped to his feet.

  
" And you have to catch me first if you want any of your demands to be considered! " 

  
They laughed and ran about for none knows how long before their momma returned with some flour from the local mill and seeing their sweaty forms, decided to be the killjoy.   
"Magnolia! Julian! Go home, right freaking now!" 

  
The shouts sounded pretty serious, however, the older one of the two, determined it was his time to shine and exclaimed:   
" What Julian? I only know Magnolia and Jaskier!" he winked at his sister and sent a warm half-apologetic smile to his mom standing at the entrance to the enclosure.

  
***

  
The University of the Oxenfurt was fairly a... refreshing experience.

Not only in terms of learning new things like elvic language or the thrill of being on your own and not knowing how to save money for dinner instead of purchasing this astonishing, violet blouse at the market, but the attention. Both desired and unwanted. 

  
Oxenfurt was packed with smokey taverns, free artists, music, knowledge and beautiful people. And Jaskier was an enthusiast of all of these. Many heated debates were executed, more folks pleased in all the ways and a lot of ale drunk. But there were times when Jaskier didn't love being himself as much as he indulges in it ordinarily.

  
When his roommate turned out to be a prick and kicked him out after stepping on Jaskier cuddling with his more-than-a-friend, who just happened to be a male, _for example_.

  
When his literature professor wanted to suspend him for sympathizing "too much" with a non-human side of the great purge, _that too._

  
But, the time Locke Pankratz trotted into his bearable life, his heart _fucking_ broke. Since then, he spent a fair amount of time trying to escape and reevaluate every experience, he sent himself into a spiral with no farewell. And he promised not to ever speak of this man again, be it even his rose-cheeked Magnolia or his dear momma, maybe especially them.

  
***

  
The rain was testing the patience of Jaskiers bedroom windows, the wind howling from time to time like some untamed beasts and he couldn't care less. Laying on a single bed with checkered duvet, the bard kept wondering about the letter in his hand and kept replaying the same words in his head again and again: " Julian, I know where you are and, I have to see you - Clementine Pankratz."

  
He hasn't experienced this feeling in about five years and, the realization was crushing.

_My mother will meet Geralt, she will be asking questions, she will be disappointed, I don't dare to look her in the eyes and say what I think... never did. _

  
Suddenly the door flew open.  
"Don't you want to have a drink?"

  
There he was, the troublemaker and trouble - solver, now only in his black tunic, brow furrowed as always. Though maybe not as angry, perhaps more in a concerned way? Or that was only his wild imagination, the exact one his father used to praise when he was five and everything was _oh, so simple._

  
" Bard?"

  
" Oooh, yes Geralt, of course, I want to go down and drink with you some ale." 

  
The witcher made a slightly displeased grimace and proceded downstairs into the lively pub whilst Jaskier began querying who's weirder between the two of them and initially what his life has become.

  
Well, he wasn't going to complain, at least for now.


	2. Pretty damn human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt has dreams, slowly learns about emotions and wants to drink some ale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I think that went a little bit better than the last one. Also, it took so long... I'm sorry.  
> But I make up the story as I go and the results can be unexpected even for me.  
> I think the chapters are gonna be alternating like that between Geralt and Jaskier and I will try to mirror them when it comes to themes.  
> Anyway leave your thoughts and kudos, be nice and have a nice day (or night).
> 
> P.S. for information about how little I know about The witcher go to last chapters' notes

Geralt was deemed by many a beast without feelings, emotions and capability to love. There were times when he believed it himself when he imagined being this cold, lifeless machine good enough only to kill or be killed. But then, he had dreams, and these assured him of his deepest fears, longings and seem-to-be-lost memories. All these elements looked pretty damn human to him. 

  
And tis the night of reminding the witcher of his true nature.

  
***

  
The fresh air of spring was whirling through a small cottage by the woods' road. Visenna hummed at the sight of a new day, beginning before her eyes and tried to take from it as much as she could. She planned to gather some herbs and flowers for her potions, to do laundry by the river and then take some time for learning the violin.   
And suddenly, she hears the scream. Loud as a peal of thunder, robust as the wrath of a demon and disturbing to the very core. A cry of her infant.   
The prophetess had to drop everything and step into the room with a crib in the middle.

  
" Oh, Geralt."

  
She looked at him and the baby silenced for a second. 

  
***

  
This summer was particularly stuffy and damp, but what could stop a round of seven-year-olds from running after each other with wooden blades? The answer was Vesemir. 

  
" Wolves! Fall into line. Now." thundered the voice of authority.

  
Ten small boys tranquillized almost instantly. At one side of them played a beautiful in its danger landscape of the valley under Kaer Morhen, at the opposite side towered their joint home. Behind the pupils was the abyss of neglect however, before them stand the future, better than any other.   
And one of them understood that particularly precise.

"Geralt. Come to me, boy."

He didn't like being single out like this. And yet it happened all the time. Something to do with his maturity or at least that what he has been told. 

  
"Lambert, what do you find so funny, hmm ?" The archery teacher roared as the brown-haired student giggled at his peers. 

  
" Nothing master, just the look on the poor Geralt's face." 

Even though Lambert was younger than the rest, he was one with the sharpest tongue and, to be honest, Geralt was afraid of this rascal. The directness of the boy was not sitting right with him.

" Leave him alone, you stupid lamb." The voice of Eskel rambled among the children. Geralt turned white, he was grateful but he still couldn't fit in, and the attention wasn't his favourite.

  
Meanwhile, amid a little query, Vesemir with hands massaging his temples, thought how he's gonna teach them better comebacks someday.  
Of course, the ones that _survive_.

  
***

  
The crisp air of autumn was at full within the castle chambers. Young witchers and wanna-be-witchers were training at the square beneath Geralt's window. And oh, how hopeless he felt. Everyone told them how their lifestyles paired with mutations can also take a toll at their frame of mind. That feeling depressed and restless is normal and nothing to pay attention to. However, he was calculating and from what he remembered today was his birthday.   
Some of his fellows didn't know about theirs, some didn't care, and some wanted to forget but, Geralt knew almost nothing about himself beside that date...

" Hey, wolfie. Don't sulk like a princess trapped in her tower." It was Hamish, his best friend, though he wasn't sure if you could have one in Kaer Morhen. He sat beside him and locked eyes with his new white hair.

" I quite like them like that, please don't be sad." He whispered, gently stroking his mutated strands.

Then, he heard the earsplitting scream and there was Hamish no more.

  
***

  
The witcher woke up, soaking in cold sweat, breathing as he just emerged from being held under the water. He has taken on his surroundings: the crappy bed in the tavern where they stopped at.   
Outside it was raining and howling and, he thought about _Jaskier_.  
When they met, the bard was more or less the same age as Hamish when he's met his passing.   
He closed his eyes for a second and remembered the brilliant honey-infused green eyes of his young friend, just before the mutations. He blinked and saw the ocean blue of the most remarkable human he ever came to meet. 

  
Geralt sighed, _time to get a grip_.

  
***

  
Jaskier was laying on his bed and looked quiet... troubled? Oh, Geralt would give away all his coin for the ability to read minds like sorcerers.

  
" Don't you want to get a drink?"

  
First, he jumped at his intrusion and then seemed to get lost in his thoughts?

_Do you hear me, all my goddamned coin._

"Bard?"

  
After Jaskier very convincingly assured of his readiness to drink some ale, Geralt went downstairs into the cosy pub and wondered about those innocent eyes so trusting yet so confused, just like his own and his fellows' many years ago.


End file.
